


Love You Like X.O.

by skeletncloset (alexa_dean)



Series: Mouth'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Facial, Fingering, Knotting, M/M, Manhandling, Mpreg, Sharing Clothes, Size Kink, ballplay, blowjob, clothes sharing kink, nippleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexa_dean/pseuds/skeletncloset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Um, my mom wants me to thank you,” Jensen calls out to Mr. Padalecki. He sets his cellphone down on the kitchen island and rubs the back of his neck. Jensen would be lying if he said he’d not been counting on it. He’d seen his mother’s red-slicked mouth, the naked expanse of her legs and he’d known he’d have no one waiting on him at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You Like X.O.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatsakitkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsakitkat/gifts), [Saltandburnboys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltandburnboys/gifts).



> “Um, my mom wants me to thank you,” Jensen calls out to Mr. Padalecki. He sets his cellphone down on the kitchen island and rubs the back of his neck. Jensen would be lying if he said he’d not been counting on it. He’d seen his mother’s red-slicked mouth, the naked expanse of her legs and he’d known he’d have no one waiting on him at home.
> 
>  
> 
> “There’s no rush,” he adds and fumbles with the top button of Mr. Padalecki’s shirt, pushing and pulling it through its eyelet; turning it over like a die.
> 
>  
> 
> Out of modesty, Jensen had reached for the nearest article of clothing and slipped it on. The shirt is huge. Jensen is all but treading water in it. The hem reaches mid thigh. About as long as the trail of come leaking out of him. And maybe that there--that Jensen might never stop seeping Mr. Padalecki’s seed-- is what roots Jensen in place.
> 
>  
> 
> There is really no place for Jensen to hide. Mr. Padalecki’s flat has an open floor plan. Divided in half. One side functions as a studio and the other as an apartment. So at the moment, the only thing between Jensen and Mr. Padalecki’s assessing gaze is a kitchen island.
> 
>  
> 
> Even if Jensen had had the opportunity to make a beeline for the bathroom, he would’ve had to go through Mr. Padalecki’s bedroom to get to it and he wasn’t about to play at Hansel and Gretel, dripping come like white pebbles in his wake.
> 
>  
> 
> When Mr. Padalecki emerges from his bedroom, naked, Jensen swears under his breath. An average person might have thought to cover up. But then again there’s nothing average about Mr. Padalecki. He is nothing at all like the boys Jensen knows. No bony spine or ripple of ribcage. No softness to him save the wet curls behind his ears and over his forehead, his sweetly pink mouth, the gentle way he’d touched Jensen.
> 
>  
> 
> It makes Jensen hard and wet when he’s already hard and wet. Two things he wishes he weren’t. He squeezes his legs together, tries to rub Mr. Padalecki’s come into his skin by shifting his thighs back and forth and succeeds only in smearing it around. At this rate, Jensen will never walk again. The thought of what might flood out of him if he does mortifies him.
> 
>  
> 
> He stares at the roll of paper towels to his left. For the moment, it appears to hold all the answers to everything Jensen can’t even bring himself to think about. But Jensen is not about to clean himself up in front of Mr. Padalecki.
> 
>  
> 
> So he white-knuckles the marble top and waits for Mr. Padalecki’s lead. He doesn’t wait long. Mr. Padalecki is quick to brush against Jensen as he sets a water glass on the countertop. For him, Jensen assumes. Jensen thanks him. It comes out as nothing more than a huff of air.
> 
>  
> 
> There’s no room between them. Probably never will be the way Mr. Padalecki presses tight along the length of Jensen’s spine. His chest hair crinkles against cotton and the naked, totem shape of his dick rides the small of Jensen’s back.
> 
>  
> 
> “You should never stop wearing my clothes,” Mr. Padalecki says to him. His stubbled chin grazes Jensen’s temple and his hand rests over Jensen’s heart, thumb sliding into the space between buttons to find Jensen’s goose-bumped skin. He traces slow unbroken circles there, like promises.
> 
>  
> 
> “I have something for you,” he says and pulls away enough to allow Jensen to take a breath. The weight of a charm thumps Jensen’s breastbone--over the place Jared’s hand had been--warmer than the chain Mr. Padalecki rings around his neck.
> 
>  
> 
> “I want you to have this. It was my mother’s.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen lifts the pendant into his line of sight. It gleams, star-colored. A cross. The flood of guilt is instantaneous and Jensen stiffens all over.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen couldn’t be more undeserving. He has broken his vows. Nevermind it was his first time. It was out of wedlock. What Mr. Padalecki must think of him. What _Jared_ must think of him.
> 
>  
> 
> “I _can’t_ take this,” Jensen says and reaches up to unclasp the necklace. Jared stops him. Grabs hold of his wrists. Jensen can’t say he wasn’t hoping for it.
> 
>  
> 
> “Think of it as a pre-engagement engagement.”
> 
>  
> 
> “But my mom—“ Jensen interrupts. “She’s not going to make it easy. She might expect some form of restitution.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jared chuckles. His hands hover over Jensen’s shaky arms before gripping them firmly. Jensen’s belly is warm but his chest is tight.
> 
>  
> 
> “Money I have in excess. But you, I can never give away enough worthy of you. I’m lucky your mother will be easily satisfied.”
> 
>  
> 
> The material over Jensen’s hips bunches as Jared balls it into his fists. Jensen isn’t sure if he wants to go where they’re going, but he may be over-thinking it. After all, he started this. Couldn’t imagine not having it only hours ago. But it’s different now. He can still feel the ghost of Jared’s knot closing him up.
> 
>  
> 
> He sways back on his heels. Rests his head on Jared’s shoulder. The air is cool on his bloodheavy dick, but Jared is hot on the swell of his ass. He concentrates on the sensation: the sound of Jared’s skin hissing against his, the spreading possessive hand on his belly. Its open palm, full of Jensen. For a dreadful moment, Jensen thinks Jared’s going to push down and Jensen will give up the ghost for sure if he’s forced to spill all over Jared’s floor.
> 
>  
> 
> “I meant all of it,” Jared whispers into his ear and pushes his cock between Jensen’s cheeks, all the way up, until his balls rest at the tip of the cleft. They rock forward together until Jensen’s hips kiss the marble in front of him.
> 
> Jared’s words become heavier, slower, like he’s speaking around a mouthful of honey. “Besides, there’s a good chance I’m a Daddy now.”
> 
>  
> 
> “ _What?_ ” That’s not exactly what Jensen expected to hear. In the heat of passion, Jared’s rhetoric had been unbelievably hot, but Jensen was not prepared for the reality of it. “ _I wasn’t even in heat_. I mean--I’m not.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jared doesn’t laugh, not exactly. But the quiver at Jensen’s back suggests otherwise. “Is that what they taught you in school? I’m pretty sure sex Ed said otherwise.”
> 
>  
> 
> “My mom,” Jensen’s entire body tingles with the flush of color. Jensen’s never held anything against his mother. She’d been a young mom and a single one at that. Estranged from her family once her pregnancy became known, she’d been given the choice between an abortion and the door. Right now however, Jensen is reconsidering his relationship with her.
> 
>  
> 
> “She didn’t sign my permission slip. Said I didn’t need it. I mean I’m Christian so I’m expected to abstain. Or at least I was.” He frowns and sags with the weight of a bottomless unknowing feeling in his gut when Jared guides him into facing him. Jensen focuses on Jared’s face. Grounds himself.
> 
>  
> 
> Outside the slanting light shifts from the mirrored warmth of Jared’s skin to the velvet of approaching twilight. Up close, Jensen can forget why he should feel scared. He can’t remember why he ever had any doubts about Jared. In pursuit of an orgasm, people will say anything. But Jared isn’t one of them.
> 
>  
> 
> In spite of their inherently mischievous slant, Jared’s eyes are earnest: new-leaf greens and clear blues recede into the greater darkness of his pupils. Jared’s nostrils flare delicately, like an animal’s keen to capture the dank odor of mingled sex.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen reacts to it, too. Rises to the balls of his feet to lick at the moist red gleam of Jared’s inner lip with the tip of his tongue. Holds onto Jared’s biceps for balance. Slips a hand into his hair and pulls to deepen the kiss, mouth widening.
> 
>  
> 
> Jared surges, his powerful grip like a girdle around Jensen’s waist, squeezing until Jensen is elevated off the floor and onto the countertop. Tacky dribbles of come trickle from Jensen’s ass. No way Jensen didn’t rupture a few capillaries from the rush of blood to his face. His legs snap closed with a loud, resounding _clap_.
> 
>  
> 
> “No, don’t,” Jared reacts immediately, “No. _Let me see_. I want to see it. Wanna see the mess I’ve made out of you.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen shakes his head. _Fuck that._
> 
>  
> 
> “Please.” Jared could have easily pulled the alpha card on Jensen. Maybe the fact that he doesn’t is what gets Jensen to grudgingly acquiesce. He allows Jared to pry his thighs open, but Jensen refuses to meet Jared’s gaze.
> 
>  
> 
> Not that it matters because Jared isn’t looking anywhere except the glossy swale between Jensen’s legs, the home he’s made for himself there. Ostensibly, it’s a bit worse for wear, if Jared’s expression is anything to go by. Which makes sense considering the way Jared worked him over. Or the way Jensen worked himself over. Nothing but instinct and months of frustration jerking Jensen around until Jensen flung himself at Jared, dismissing all consequence.
> 
>  
> 
> Jesus, what had Jensen been _thinking_?
> 
>  
> 
> A pitiful yelp escapes him when Jared shoves Jensen’s knees to his chest, hard enough Jensen falls on his elbows. He’s jarred more from Jared’s shameless curiosity than his own exposure. It’s like nothing Jensen can do will ever make him wide enough, open enough, for Jared.
> 
>  
> 
> “Beautiful,” is the first thing out of Jared’s mouth as he runs his fingers over Jensen. It burns like a welt and Jensen slits his eyes through it, fights a snarl. He’s smarting and his reaction is involuntary.
> 
>  
> 
> Eyelids gone half-lidded and feline, Jared doesn’t appear to notice. Jared’s lips part as he swallows, like his throat is too dry to work properly. Like it’s him having his ass played with and not Jensen. Jensen softens under Jared’s fingers as Jared’s free-hand rides the pulse in Jensen’s cock, all the way up to the slit and back down again.
> 
>  
> 
> “Look at you,” Jared groans. “I would’ve waited forever for you, but I’m a weak man. Never stood a chance against you, wanting to fill you up and bounce you on my cock. Wanna watch your belly grow and your tits jiggle when you ride me, feel them up through my shirts-- because that’s all I’ll ever let you wear when we’re alone. Want you reeking of me all the time. Want everyone to smell me on you. Wanna watch you glow with my babies. You gonna do that for me? You gonna glow?”
> 
>  
> 
> Jared might have Jensen panting, have his shoulders falling back and his stomach punching forward, back arching, but Jensen can’t bring himself to answer. Because it’s not pillow talk this time, he knows. But it’s hard to remember something that important when Jared is making him howl and squirm and grind back into the marble and up into the air, lifting straight through the heels of half-perched feet, hips heaving and driving Jensen’s dick through the gaps of Jared’s knuckles, balls lewdly pink against olive skin.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen reaches out to Jared searching for boundaries that may have never existed. He spreads his fingers over the bunch and flex of Jared’s pecs. Rubs circles into Jared’s nipples. Jensen’s ass feels like a salty mess of wet.  His dick isn’t doing any better. And Jared’s grip feels like a mouth closing in on Jensen’s sac. It’s that hot and sloppy with Jensen’s slick and Jared’s come and sweat and everything in between.
> 
>  
> 
> Jared gleams against approaching shadows. Takes up all of Jensen’s vision, blurring everything that isn’t him so it’s as if Jensen is looking through a fogged window. On Jared’s chest, damp curls shimmer with sweat. And Jared’s hips fuck forward through air, like he’s already riding Jensen’s ass with his cudgel-thick dick, like it isn’t bouncing against his lower abdomen, martial red tip raining precome over Jensen’s spread legs.
> 
>  
> 
> He crooks his fingers inside Jensen, strokes him. Presses a thumb into the place behind Jensen’s balls. And Jensen feels himself twitching and then opening, giving in. Jensen chokes on a sob that could have been an _oh my god_ or _what the fuck_ , or anything equally mundane but heavy with feeling. But most likely would’ve been something stupid like _do that again, Mr. Padalecki_ , which would not have gone over very well now they’re on a first name basis.
> 
>  
> 
> Desperate want climbs up and down Jensen’s spine, remembering the sloppy feeling of Jared’s lips on his neck, his shoulders, the way he’d taken sips from the corner of Jensen’s mouth between cries.
> 
>  
> 
> Betrayed again by his selfish, needy body--a pliant, whiny thing, that doesn’t even have the decency to hide its face—Jensen is shamed to tears. Jensen tries to turn away. Wishes he could _will_ himself soft. He feels stupid with base desire. Oh, Jensen tries, but it’s Jared and it’s foolish to turn away from someone like him, patient and formidable as a mountain cat.
> 
>  
> 
> He yanks Jensen partway off the countertop; slots himself between Jensen’s thighs. Grips Jensen hard, uses his strength to haul Jensen’s legs over his shoulders until his dick nestles between Jensen’s asscheeks and his hands are free to pull Jensen’s hole open with his thumbs. Jared drags his sac right over it, his half-formed knot, like he can get past the ring by determination alone.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen’s shoulders--his only source of leverage--skid as he’s jostled back and forth over the marble. He covers his face with his hands, teased by delicious friction, by the snag of skin, the broad sweeping strokes of Jared’s balls. Sensitive enough to discern a change in texture: every ridge, every seam, the dark thatch of hair at the root.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen wants more than he’s given, frantic with it, wants to press his face to the fragrant hollow underneath Jared’s jaw, pop buttons and have Jared tease his nipples to hardness. Jensen tugs at the chain around his neck and slips the cross into his mouth. He tongues it. Sucks it. Purses his lips around it, tasting Jared’s violence, his sex, the acid tang of them together.
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh, _fuck_ , Jensen,” Jared moans, edging Jensen’s legs back on the counter.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen spreads his thighs and bares his throat in submission. Postures as well as he can in his current state. Everything about Jensen is too heavy: his breath, his eyes, his dick, pebbled nipples rubbed raw by cotton.
> 
> Glowing and golden, Jared arcs over him, solid muscle of stomach all but crushing Jensen’s dick. Jared wrenches Jensen back across the surface of the countertop, crowds him until they’re mouth to mouth and tangled limbs. Jensen’s ankles lock over the small of Jared’s back. The two of them reduced into an unrecognizable mass of muscle and skin and brute strength.
> 
>  
> 
> Bucking against Jensen, Jared pitches his tongue into Jensen’s mouth, savage and desperate, as though he could shove his heart right down Jensen’s throat. Jensen is the first to pull away, breathless with what he’s about to say.
> 
>  
> 
> “I think . . . I think I want you to suck me again.” Jensen pauses, displeased with the way he sounds, too plaintive and indecisive. “Please?” Then as if he couldn’t be clear enough, Jensen adds, “I want you to put me in your mouth. Mr. Padalecki--Jared.“
> 
>  
> 
> Retreating, Jared brushes his lips across Jensen’s cheekbone, smiling all the way down. And Jensen’s eyes follow, fearful that he’d gone too far and his body goes sullen with thwarted want. But Jensen’s disappointment vanishes once Jared starts talking again.
> 
>  
> 
> “Wanna slide right into my mouth, Jensen? Wanna melt in it? Want your slick all over my face? Wanna come on it? You gonna, baby? You gonna do that for me? Gonna mark me? Gonna come all over me, inside my mouth and over my lips? Gonna lick yourself right offa me? I want you to, Jensen. Want you to let go for me. Don’t hold back. Gonna take care of you like you take care of me.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jared doesn’t wait for Jensen’s answer because seriously? Who in their right mind would say no? Jesus, Jared is hot--that smile--holy and mad, rapturous and dimpled. It makes Jensen dizzy but not as dizzy as when Jared takes Jensen deep into his mouth, all the way down to his sac, scratch of stubble, the hot shunt of his breath. Jensen can all but hear the hot whisper of Jared’s mouth sucking on his wet little slit as he comes up for air and suckles the tip.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen bites his lips. His world siphoned down to Jared’s blade-shaped eyes and sunken cheeks. Jared slurps fat drops of precome from Jensen’s dick. And it’s really fuckin’ good having everything wrung out of him without an orgasm, feeling the tug right down to his balls, right down to Jared’s hand as he clutches Jensen’s sac, keeping him from blowing his load too soon. No way Jensen wouldn’t have. Jared pulls on them, rolls them, near squeezing.
> 
>  
> 
> And Jensen feels it all. Oh, he feels it. If not for the brick walls, Jensen is sure Jared’s neighbors would hear Jensen losing his fucking mind right down the rabbit hole of Jared’s throat, past his gag reflex. Jared lets him, moaning like he can’t get enough of it, like he loves Jensen grinding himself against his face. And Jensen wants to come, can feel the pressure building. It begins to hurt.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’m going to burst,” he wails. But if Jared hears him he doesn’t show it. Jensen knows he’s sopping wet when Jared slides his thumb between Jensen’s cheeks, frictionless. Jensen is so slippery, there is no need to ease into it. Jared's knuckle simply pops right past the ring. Thrusts in and out, in and out, pinning Jensen to the stone beneath him. Sketches patterns like a kid fingerpainting.
> 
>  
> 
> When Jared lets go of Jensen’s nuts, pushes his forefinger right alongside his thumb and tries to pull him open, Jensen comes promptly, just as Jared’s mouth pops off. Ropes catch on Jared’s cheek and manage to shoot into the roof of his mouth. Pearls on his tongue. True to his word, Jared crawls up Jensen’s body and kisses him, deep and heavy and full of bitter saltwater taste; only to break long enough for Jensen to lick come off his face.
> 
> Some of it must have gotten on Jared’s chest because Jensen’s shirt goes immediately damp, rasping against his oversensitive nipples. He’s about to complain when he feels the blunt head of Jared’s cock, fat and hot.
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Wait_ ,” Jensen rushes to say, not exactly finding the words. Something like, _I’m scared_ , or _I don’t want to get pregnant_ , but fuck, Jensen might already be on his way.
> 
>  
> 
> What coyness there had been, his pucker is beyond that now, rippling as it swallows Jared down in stutters and slurps. An endless ride all the way down to Jared’s half-formed knot, head and veiny shaft sliding right past his sweet spot so Jensen’s spent dick dribbles pitiably.
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen’s stomach muscles ache from the residual contractions of his orgasm. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his face to Jared’s neck, pulls on his hair with his hands. This time there is no intermission, just Jared dicking him, snapping his hips forward, trying to feed Jensen his knot.
> 
>  
> 
> “It’s not gonna _fit_ , Mr. Padalecki,” he cries out, wretched, because he wants it to, but he also doesn’t want to deal with the ramifications. “I can’t.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You can,” Jared hisses, “You’ve done it already, baby. You’ve taken all of me. You’ve been so good to me. So perfect for me. Such a good boy.”
> 
>  
> 
> But Jensen can’t. Jared pulls out, drags Jensen off the countertop, spins him and bends him over. Jared’s paw closes over the back of his neck--fingers nearly touching the hollow of Jensen’s throat-- and fucks right in. Jensen is stunned by how hot he finds it, goes limp for Jared to use, pumping into him, making Jensen scream. It’s faster and harder than the first time, rough and merciless. And Jensen knows why. Knows Jared wants Jensen’s complete submission. Wants to pound his knot right through Jensen’s body.
> 
>  
> 
> “That’s it. _Let me hear you_ ,” Jared groans. “You’re gonna take it. Just gotta get deep enough, get you wet enough.”
> 
>  
> 
> Jensen makes up his mind, reaches back to grab hold of Jared’s flanks and yanks him tight against his ass, squeezing a startled shout from Jared. Jensen’s sweat follows his hairline and falls in beads against the countertop where he’s fogged up the surface with his breath. He’s done it. And he feels a bit of pride, taking Jared’s knot and making him scream. Feels even better when Jared’s hand sneak under his shirt to feel the line of his cock inside of Jensen from the outside.
> 
>  
> 
> **
> 
>  
> 
> Jared’s fingers snag on Jensen’s pushed-out belly button, stomach swollen and ripe and too big for Jared’s hands. Now tentative, now tender, when Jensen could do with rougher handling.
> 
>  
> 
> Jared is shy and worried all the time now. Afraid to hurt the baby. Afraid to hurt Jensen. Jensen has had to learn to encourage, to lure, to guide Jared into him. Learns words like spells. _Want you to come in me_ , he says. _Let me feel it. Make me remember. Need it so much, Jay. Need you so much. Love you. Love you. Love you._
> 
>  
> 
> Offers up his nipples and his sweet little cunt, the necklace and pendant so much cooler than his skin, sometimes swinging underneath him as he rides Jared--rocking slow, rocking fast--sometimes resting in his mouth. He's hot all the time now, wanting it. Wanting Jared. The stretch so much more different too, but he never lets it show, thrusts his newly-formed breasts into Jared’s tight mouth, feeds him strength and promise, winds pleasure all around them, cages them in, becomes a temple, becomes a prison.


End file.
